


Lies of Relief

by CFonticola



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Allergies, Creeper Elias Bouchard, M/M, Sneezing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23576917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CFonticola/pseuds/CFonticola
Summary: Sometimes, his growing Archivist's attempts to cling to his own petty humanity are almost beautiful.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 9
Kudos: 77





	Lies of Relief

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway have my Secretest Best Kink chucks it on the AyOhThrees and runs.

Sometimes, Elias thinks, his growing Archivist's attempts to cling to his own petty humanity by any petty means are almost beautiful.  
  
  
Pitifully so, really, the way Jon treats the caprices of his body - a tickling nose when the Archivist does not actually need to breath anymore - suddenly as welcome guests. After a lifetime of irritation at his seasonal allergies (Elias Knows - it's such a small thing to Know, but with artwork more than anything the devil is in the details), now here he is - pausing mid-statement, even. Blinking, slipping a finger under his glasses to tip them up as moisture gathers faintly at the corner of one eye. A twitch of one nostril greeted with a look of confusion, as though he'd forgotten - and Jon grunts a complaint, _I suppose that's still happening_ , but Elias Knows he's secretly thrilled.  
  
  
Human. Flesh and blood and reflexes and weakness. It's beautiful. Because doomed things are beautiful, and the realization of fatal mistakes is the most delectable part of fear.  
  
  
But Jon has not had that realization just yet. Jon gives his flickering nose a hard rub with three fingers and tries to resume the statement, determined to show himself that he has no time for this. That he is absolutely not so terrified of his own transformation that even a mounting sneeze is a welcome proof of what of him remains untouched. In his darkest moments he will never admit to anyone that he is leaning into it. But Elias Knows, and picks up the stuttering of the Archivist’s voice along with the tape recorder -  
  
  
"S-statement given Feb- Febr _huhh_ \- s-sorry, I’ve got t-t _hh!_ "  
  
  
Once, Jon would have reached out to shut off the tape recorder with one hand, even as his head falls back and another hand cups under his nostrils as they flare with desperate expectation. Now it's pointless, of course, and he knows as much. It frustrates him - _angers_ him, the loss of control, the loss of _privacy_. Elias is almost giddy with that feeling. With Jon's sudden, rough insistence -  
  
  
"Statement taken - _hhRSHHUHH!_ Oh..."  
  
  
The sigh is exquisite. The loud, wet-sounding demonstration of Jon's lingering humanity, less so, except for the double edge in its relief. Because he isn't remotely done (Elias Knows) -  
  
  
" _hdhh -_ oh, for god’s sa _hh_ \- _hhDSSSHH!_ h'KTCHhu! EShh!-ESHH!- _Ha'ETCHOO!_ "  
  
  
\- and because it's meaningless, really. Beautifully meaningless. Relief is a lie. The moment’s relief of the expulsion just as much as the relief of still being touched by the human need. Jon still likes his lies, the lies of his humanity. Clings to them, cradles them as he does the handkerchief to his dripping nose. But he'll know, one day. He'll Know.  
  
  
Elias leans back in his seat. He listens to Jon grumbling at the tape recorder, muffled by his handkerchief but clear in Elias's mind -  
  
  
"Don't know what you want with my - _snf!_ \- my sneezes, of all things..."  
  
_  
Oh, Jon,_ Elias thinks. _When will you understand I want all of you._


End file.
